Of Befuddlement and Blood
by YellowXelia
Summary: A collection of short stories, drabbles, and one-shots centered around Nezumi and Sion. New chapter is now up.
1. Chapter 1

Because really, there aren't _nearly _enough No.6 fics.

I found a random word generator, and the word 'mollycoddle' came up...it somehow turned into this monster. Anyways, enjoy (I hope) this strange little story-type-thing. (Yes, I realize it's written weird)

Disclaimer: ...I only wish I owned No.6...

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><p>Sion didn't understand, <em>couldn't <em>understand the air of indifference everyone outside No.6 carried. There was murder and death and stealing and hate_hate__**hate**_. He didn't like it, the feeling of _not knowing why_, and Nezumi knew it. Day after day, he would observe those nuances that meant Sion was thinking (_idon'tgetitidon'tunderstand_) and try to look through those red eyes that saw nothing but good (_whyiseverythingsowrong_) and love (_ihateitihateit_) and no pain (_ithurtsithurtshelpme__**i'mburning**_).

But it made sense, because Sion had been _mollycoddled_ and _loved _and- Nezumi called it innocence. No matter what seemed to happen, that white little flower seemed to stay untainted. He wanted to preserve it; that burst of purity against the dark backdrop of reality, keep it for himself.

It was faint, but he saw it. He saw the tattered edge of the petal, and he was _scared_ (_it'smyfaultishouldn'). _Nezumi ignored it. That always worked in the past, maybe it would work now. Sion didn't even complain, even though he had every right to _cryscreamrunfindawayout._ The petal started to wilt. Nezumi avoided looking at it.

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><p><em>Safu is here, <em>he said and led the way like he had been in the correction facility all his life. Nezumi watched the petal fall. Wandering the halls that screamed _deaththere'sdeathheregetout__**GOAWAY**_ was no picnic. The white made Nezumi's eyes hurt; rats belonged in the dark, safe from the light of the other world.

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><p><strong>BANGBANGBANG <strong>and there was smoke and _what'shappeningi'mconfusedSIONGETAWAY _and he was bleeding and he didn't know why until he saw the blood (_ithurtswhere'ssionisheokay_). The man with the gun was going to kill him, he could tell _-_**BANG **and the man was on the ground and _**Sion- Sion was holding a gun. **_Nezumi could see them, the withered petals falling off and leaving nothing but a blackened stem-oh. There was still one left. Sion was still _pure_. He didn't kill, he was clean _and what was he doing. Why is he pointing that weapon at the man- what was he saying? Oh, that's right- the man shot him. Sion was angry why was he so angry no don't __**don't do it don'tdon'tDON'T- **__too late._

No more petals left, no more innocence, and Nezumi _cried. _He didn't see Sion come back and witness his crime. No. He only moved when those warm arms were around him and soft reassurances were whispered in his ear- _but that wasn't right. Sion was the one who needed to be held and told it's alright because he just __**killed someone**_. But Nezumi couldn't bring himself to do it.

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><p>Sion hated him. He could tell by the way his eyes (<em>thoseredredeyesliketheblood<em>) held that look of madness and betrayal. And it hurt. But he let him rage and scream as the elevator fell. It was his fault Sion was like this, and that Safu ruined him too, getting captured like that- but she was gone now and Sion was asking if he'd been _used _and he could only lie and say yes, because Sion needed someone to blame. Besides, it really was his fault.

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><p><strong>BANG-<strong>_and he's shot __**again**__ but this time it's for Sion and it's dark and then they're in the halls and he's being carried and what happened. They're back where they came from and Sion is telling him to grab his hand and he reaches- __**BLOODTHERE'SBLOODCOMINGFROMSION'SCHEST**_._ And he grabs that hand and they fallandfalland-_

_Now they're alone and Sion is deaddead__**deadhe'sdeadjustliketheflower**__. And then he's singing, because Sion was __**the one **__but he's gone and he deserves a proper send-off in this forsaken place- __**ELYURIAS**__. She's singing and then there's just brightgloriouswhatisthat. He stands and it's gone and he's healed and- __**SION IS ALIVE AND HE'S TALKING AND NOT DEAD**__. _It's all Nezumi can do to not break down right then.

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><p>Nezumi leads the way back to what used to be home, and they take it all in. He knows he has to leave, so he goes. But Sion calls him back. <em>And he takes <em>_**his most-special person **__and __**kisses**__ those soft lips that aren't cold and dead, all the while watching the bud that has started to grow in place of the withered flower. _Sion watches him go, and Nezumi knows this. He knows when his flower turns and goes to find his mother. And he's already counting down the seconds until he gets to see that white hair and red snake again. Because he promised that foolish, mollycoddled young man that he'd be back.


	2. Take an Umbrella

"Take an umbrella. It's raining."

_(Consider this DISCLAIMED :) )_

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><p>Dark clouds loomed on the horizon, inching closer and closer with each passing day. Whenever Sion went out, he noticed the wary glances everyone in the West Block gave the mass of turbid darkness, and it confused him. Oh, he knew it was an oncoming monsoon, but he didn't know why everyone was so scared. Even Nezumi was slightly jumpier than usual! Hugging the bag of groceries to his chest, Sion resolved to ask him what was going on when he got back to their small home.<p>

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><p>"I'm back," Nezumi called out his usual greeting, and was pretty surprised when there wasn't a reply. Usually, Sion would have been all been all over him, pestering him with questions like, <em>'How was your day' <em>or _'Guess what I saw!'_ the second he announced himself. It was kind of endeari-annoying. But there wasn't even a reply.

"Sion!" Still no answer. But Nezumi wasn't worried, no way. There was no way he'd be concerned that the white-haired idiot had wandered off and was probably dead or in the correction facility or-

"Nezumi?" In his current state of mind, he hadn't noticed Sion walk into the room. He scowled internally; he really **was** losing his touch. "Nezumi, are you okay? You look kind of angry..." Sion put a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

He brushed the boy off, not very willing to admit he'd been even the slightest bit worried. "You should answer when someone calls your name," Nezumi hid his embarrassment with irritation.

Sion blinked, then realized what he meant. "Oh! Sorry, I fell asleep and I didn't hear you call me," He laughed sheepishly, smiling innocently. Nezumi looked closer and noticed that Sion did look like he'd been sleeping. He reached out and combed his hand through the soft, alabaster hair, smoothing down the strands that stuck up oddly. Sion's smile softened, but Nezumi withdrew his hand almost as soon as he'd placed it on his head.

"...I take it that you didn't make dinner," It was a statement rather than a question, as everyone (at least, Inukashi and Nezumi) knew that a tired Sion was a useless Sion. The guilty grin confirmed what he already knew. Growling insults under his breath, Nezumi stalked over to their makeshift kitchen area. Sion stumbled along behind him, yawning.

Looking over their meager ingredients (including the groceries Sion had bought earlier), Nezumi realized he didn't have much to choose from. Shrugging, he decided to make a simple tomato soup. Those slightly-less-rotten-than-usual tomatoes would go bad soon anyway. "Hey, Sion. Hand me that knife." Sion passed it over, looking a little spaced out.

"...Nezumi?" Without turning from his chopping, the said young man grunted; his equivelent of '_what_'. "Um, well, I was...uh," Sion stumbled over his words, "Why is everyone so afraid of the storm that's coming?" Nezumi's hand froze, and he turned to look at Sion with disbelief.

"What?" The completely oblivious boy blushed, "I'm serious! Don't give me that look!"

Nezumi blinked and started the dinner preparations again. "You really are stupid. The rain is dangerous here. There's flooding, and some of the more unstable buildings can get knocked over."

As if some switch in his logic had been turned on, Sion made an '_oh_' sound and turned his gaze to the pot Nezumi had filled with water and some not-yet rotten milk he'd nicked. The rest of the evening was spent in a gloomy silence that was only broken when a half-asleep Sion announced that he was going to bed.

The storm broke the next day, leaving Nezumi and Sion stuck inside. Water had started leaking down into the tunnels, but thankfully it hadn't gotten into their dry refuge. Sitting around all day wasn't a very attractive though to either of the young men, but they made due. They read, slept a little, and Nezumi even showed off his acting skills, somehow managing to drag Sion into his mock-play.

But alas, the burgundy-eyed sixteen year old couldn't be entertained all day, especially if there was a rather lovely storm outside. All throughout the morning and into the afternoon, he threw longing glances towards the door. It was starting to piss Nezumi off. Finally, around four p.m., he gave in.

"FINE. You can go outside if you want to! Just stop making that face!" He probably shouldn't have yelled, but Sion kept sighing, and it was getting on his nerves. Although he probably didn't care, given the huge smile on his face.

Grabbing his shoes and a coat (_Nezumi's _coat, to be exact), the ecstatic boy raced to the door. "I'll be back soon!" He yelled as he hopped around, trying to get his shoes on as quick as possible.

"WAIT!" It was a spur of the moment outburst. Sion paused and glanced back at Nezumi curiously. "...Take an umbrella or something...there's one by the door," He trailed off awkardly, but smiled when the beaming albino thanked him and took the rather beat up umbrella that sat near the entrance for emergencies. He was glad he'd kept it.

Later, when Sion came back in soaking wet, Nezumi gave him a change of clothes and leftover soup that he'd warmed up after berating him for getting water everywhere. But really, it was hard to feel bad about dripping all over the floor when you were curled up on a couch, listening to an excellently read book.

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><p><strong>...Not my best work. Half of it was written in school, and the ending was awkward. But whatever; I actually wrote something! Oh, and happy Friday the thirteenth!<strong>


	3. Temptation

AN/ Haha... I don't really have any excuse for this being late... I just procrastinate like my life depends on it =_=; So please accept this as a sort of apology... I'd also like to thank the people who reviewed/faved/alerted this: Briggita101, Fantasiaa, monique007, lazeee an demented, Kyrou, Hakumei-chan, Shut Up Blond B. (I didn't want to write that last part...), kitsunenari-chan, Hermina05, and angel121005. It means a lot to me!

Now, onto the story!

Disclaimer: I don't think No.6 would even _exist_ yet if I owned it...

Sion's hair. It was so shiny, like starlight... It looked cleaner than fresh snow, and softer than the fluffy down of a chick. Nezumi wanted to touch it. A lot. Some may call him obsessed, but that wasn't true! He just wanted to feel those silky strands slip through his fingers, wanted to see if it would shimmer in the light, wanted to- alright. So maybe he was a _little_ obsessed, but he had a good reason! If Sion ever wanted to dye his hair (the chances of that happening were close to zero) then he had to know what kind of hair he had to make sure the job was done right. That was it, not because he thought it was beautiful or anything... nope.

Glaring at the clueless source of his "issues", Nezumi sat and fumed on the small couch. Sion simply shrugged and continued reading on the other side of the room. _He must be in a foul mood from work, _he thought blissfully. He was completely oblivious to the plotting going on in in that very room.

_If I wait until he's busy, I can just brush against him and he'll never know! But knowing that airhead he _would _notice! Maybe I should just ask him-no! That would be weird, and my pride could never take that. Gah! What is _wrong _with me?___Nezumi gave nothing of his internal struggle away. Thankfully, his sanity was saved when Sion decided to go take a nap.

The atmosphere was far less awkward with the temptation removed from the vacinity, so our favorite rodent decided to do something productive; read. He sat there for a few hours, and managed to read through two or three of his favorite plays until he decided he would have to wake up his companion. The kid would be awake all night if he napped for more than two and a half hours. Nezumi had learned that the hard way.

Having distracted his mind for so long, he was completely unprepared for the urge to _touch that hair _to return. And so, his fingers were intertwined in the strands of starlight before he could think twice. Giving in to the irresistible softness, he let his hands do their work. Sion would smile and hum happily every so often, making Nezumi feel slightly more at ease with what he was doing. Not that he'd ever admit to doing it, of course.

Twenty minutes later, Sion awoke to a rather awkward looking Nezumi shaking his shoulder. "I had a really nice dream..." For some reason, he felt compelled to inform his friend of the rather comforting dream he'd had. He didn't notice the other freeze for a millisecond.

"...Really," _Crap. _ How could he have let this happen? He shouldn't have given in! Nezumi cringed inwardly, feeling slightly dirty. The albino didn't seem to mind his short answer, and continued on with his desription.

"Yeah! It felt nice. It reminds me of how my mom used to comb my hair for me when I was little," The wistfulness in his tone was blatant. Suddenly, Nezumi had a brilliant idea (although he never said anything).

Sion never did find out about the "incident", but he found himself sleeping far better lately, and Nezumi seemed to have a smirk on whenever he woke up. It was safe to say that the new routine was quite perfect. Until Sion woke up and discovered his housemate's "hobby". Not that he was angry (he actually enjoyed it), but Nezumi ended up a little flustered. The affair was solved with a simple compromise; the hair-thing would continue, and no one would find out about Nezumi's nightly activities. It was a good deal, and their little routine continued on soundly.

...That was crap ;_; I apologize. My procrastinating ways captured me and took me to the wonderful world of "I'll do it tomorrow". School also helped. The next one will be better! If anyone wants me to write something specific, feel free to tell me! Grammar/spelling corrections would be nice too...


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